The Perfect Wedding
by TheChemistJorax
Summary: DO NOT open this if you have a sophisticated sense of humor. Also do not open this if you want any semblance of a plot or purpose in what you read. In fact, it's probably better if everyone just stays away from it all together. I promise this one will stay a one shot.


A/N: So I fell asleep at my laptop last night while typing this mess into the wee hours of the morn. I don't even know _what _is going on here. It just is. It just happened, much like a deadly disease.

I'm so sorry.

* * *

"This is so ridiculous. I can't believe I have to go tonight of all nights," Shepard grumbled in frustration as she stepped into the dress pooled on the floor.

Miranda sighed as she fiddled with the clasp of her bracelet. Shepard had not let up on her complaining for hours now, and it was getting trying. "Oh stop playing the surprised victim, we sent in the RSVP months ago."

With an indignant sniff, Shepard pulled the fabric up her legs, shimming a bit to get it up past her hips. She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a moment, and then made a disgusted face, "I don't like this one either."

Groaning, Miranda moved to stand behind the woman. "Well then put it on the bed with the others and I'll take it back tomorrow. You're running out of options though. You should sort out the ones you could tolerate for the day even if you don't like them."

"I can't tolerate any of them," Shepard whined. "My life is over."

"Mmm, if only you weren't so thickheaded and had come to the store with me and tried them on there," Miranda sighed wistfully.

"Let's just forget it," Shepard pleaded, not for the first time. "We can just pretend something came up and still catch the event."

"Shepard, that's awful. Think of how she would feel," Miranda chided gently as she folded up the discarded mound of dresses on the bed into neat piles.

"Well _I _would feel better. Come on, Miranda. Those movies are classics. How often are they going to be showing them again, hmm? I miss it now and that's it!"

Miranda rolled her eyes, "Shepard you can find all three films online in a second. You could watch it anytime you want."

Shaking her head defiantly, Shepard stood her ground, "Not the same as on the big screen. Come on, you aren't even tempted a little?"

Laughing, Miranda pulled the last dress that Shepard had yet to try out of a shopping bag, "As enticing as watching a bunch of dirty white guys running around and poking at outdated special effects with sharp objects in the woods is, I think I'll find the strength to resist."

"You just don't understand art," Shepard mumbled as she pulled off the dress and accepted the one Miranda was offering.

"That's probably it," Miranda agreed solemnly.

"It's better than watching a bunch of people in fancy outfits walking down an aisle for five hours."

Miranda smiled despite herself, "Somehow I think you'll survive."

"Doubtful," came the sullen reply. "I hate this one too."

* * *

Shepard was glaring at Miranda the entire trip to the church, even more so while they were stepping into the building to find their seats. For her part, Miranda ignored the woman and kept up a steady pace.

"Don't stand so close to me," Shepard hissed. "You're making me feel dumb."

"What?" Miranda whispered, clearly distracted as she tried to find a familiar face in the sea of strangers shuffling around the pews.

Shepard's embarrassment was quickly pushed to the back of her mind however as she noticed quite a few heads were turning in their direction. Even dressed simply for the clearly relaxed attitude of the afternoon wedding Miranda was catching way too many eyes for Shepard's tastes. Instinctively, she took a step forward and linked her arm with the beautiful woman's.

"I thought you wanted space?" Miranda questioned disinterestedly, eyes still scanning the room.

"I changed my mind," Shepard grumbled as her eyes shot daggers at a young man on the groom's side who let his eyes linger just a few seconds too long.

"Oh there we go, I think I see Garrus," Miranda said, feeling a bit relieved as it seemed not many of their former crewmates had arrived yet. She pulled out of Shepard's grasp and headed towards her friend quickly, Shepard trailing reluctantly behind.

Garrus sat alone in the pew, so Shepard moved in next to him and Miranda followed suit.

"Oh good thing you're here," he sighed in relief. "Since Tali was in the party I had to come so early and I don't know any of these people." Shepard felt bad for her old friend; many of the Williams clearly had no love for the Turians due to obvious reasons. He must have felt tremendously uncomfortable.

Miranda leaned forward to look past Shepard, "Where is she by the way?"

"Went to go bother Ashley I think. I've hardly seen her all morning." He paused for a moment, mirth filling his voice, "It's always nice to see you in formal attire, Commander."

Shepard glared angrily, "Not one more word, I'm miserable enough already."

"Oh hush, you'll be rid of the dress in a couple of hours," Miranda reminded her gently.

"Is that a promise?" Shepard questioned through a toothy grin.

All it got her was a swat to the back of the head.

* * *

Miranda listened in contented silence for a time as Shepard and Garrus chattered about this and that, her gaze lazily roaming the building, watching as the various relatives of the wedding party found their seats. She was a bit startled when a young man sidled up beside her in the pew, making it quite clear by his body language that he was intent on getting to know her more intimately throughout the various activities of the day.

"And how do you know the bride? I feel like I would remember seeing you around."

Miranda lips involuntarily quirked upwards in amusement. Unfortunately it wasn't the worst she had ever heard. She was going to quickly shoo him out of the space that they had been holding for their friends but Shepard beat her to the punch, draping a protective arm around the woman's shoulders possessively.

"We're great friends with Ashley. The both of us. _Together_." Shepard had recognized the man as soon as he had sat down as the one who had been letting his eyes wander a bit too freely earlier. His eyes grew wide at the sight of her, clearly recognizing the old soldier instantly.

"What's your name, kid?" She pressed, a menacing smile plastered across her face.

The man was sliding back along the pew slowly, clearly eager to escape. "Greg," he managed to whisper.

Shepard lifted her free hand to wave condescendingly, "Bye, Greg."

He was gone in a flash. Miranda pulled free of Shepard immediately, not at all amused with the display. She glared at the woman next to her, "Why don't you save us the dramatics and just pee around me in a circle?"

Shepard seemed to contemplate this for a moment, and then shrugged. "Okay," she said nonchalantly as she stood up.

"Oh just sit down and behave yourself," Miranda hissed, pulling her back down onto the bench almost violently.

"Yes ma'am," Shepard said solemnly as Garrus snickered beside her.

* * *

A good word to use to describe the early stages of the wedding would be awkward. A church filled to the brim with humans, with just one pew overflowing with a hodgepodge of alien species. Shepard and Miranda felt a wee bit self conscious stuck in between the ragtag crew. Of course they weren't ashamed of their companions, but their life just after the war had been spent largely in the limelight, a fact that had left them aggravated by too much attention.

Luckily, it wasn't too much longer before the music had started and the precession had begun, drawing all attention away from themselves. It was mercifully short, considering how traditional Ashley had wanted the affair. Shepard knew she could thank James for that. No way would he be spending any time longer than was strictly necessary in a tuxedo. Miranda was thankful for the speed of events as well, if only if Shepard had less time to grumble and complain in her ear about how bored she was.

Two and a half hours later, Shepard found herself sitting in an uncomfortable chair at a round table that was empty, save for herself and dirty dishes full of half eaten food. All around her her friends were dancing and laughing, contributing to the already stuffy air collecting under the large tent by sweating profusely. She crossed her arms in frustration as she watched Miranda talking to the woman behind the bar.

Miranda had left the table to get them a couple of drinks, but apparently she was also looking to make a friend. Usually, Shepard was never the possessive type, but today was different. Shepard was tired, grumpy, hot, uncomfortable, and completely bored. Miranda should be paying attention to _her._

It felt like hours before the woman was back at her side.

"Here you are," she said, handing Shepard a glass.

"I'm going to have to get a beeper for you," Shepard sighed sadly as Miranda returned to her seat.

"Yes, how dare I have free will," she responded while rolling her eyes.

"Now you're getting it," Shepard nodded as she took a sip. "We'll also have to find a way to start making you less attractive."

Shepard was just fooling around of course; she usually spent her time teasing Miranda in such a way. She found herself giving it more thought today however. Blame the music or the atmosphere of the party, but Shepard found herself paying more attention to the woman's reactions than usual. She just seemed so bored with the whole thing, like the attention was just another part of everyday life.

For the first time, Shepard felt grateful for the fact that Miranda had been so cold towards her around their first meeting. Obviously she had enjoyed Miranda on an aesthetic level since day one, but the woman's attitude had be a major turn off. Shepard wondered that had Miranda had shown any sort of warmth in the beginning, if she would have had the confidence to try and pursue anything more intimate. Had that happened, Shepard surely would have become just another annoyance, one more in the sea of endless suitors vying for Miranda's personal attention.

"Impossible," the woman scoffed.

"At least you're modest," Shepard offered.

"I have to remain appealing on some level. How else will I stroke your ego?"

Shepard didn't bother fighting back the huge grin that spread across her face. All of those people looking at Miranda were attracted to her beauty. They couldn't hear the sarcasm or listen to the playful irritation or even feel the warmth. It was easy to be smug, when Shepard remembered those privileges. All of those wandering eyes, they were missing out on the best parts.

* * *

Though they would never admit it themselves, Shepard and Miranda had turned into homebodies over their time together. They loved their friends dearly, and were always willing to help in whatever capacity was needed, but when push came to shove, they were most content together in bed, bickering about nothing. That was no problem in most instances, but when it came to events like this it only lead to disaster. Shepard wanted to go home so badly her whining was near constant, something which only made Miranda more and more irritable. Basically, it all added up to Shepard and Miranda sitting at their table, drinking and scrutinizing those around them while making the occasional scornful observation.

"At least it's not as crazy as Tali and Garrus' union…contract…breeding thing…wedding…" Shepard offered, trailing off awkwardly.

Miranda shuddered at the memory. The couple had tried to incorporate both of their cultures into the ceremony, and with Tali's love of all things romantic, one or two more were thrown into the mix. The result had been an insane mixture of conflicting ideals spanning three days and two planets. Calling it an experience would be putting it mildly.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" Shepard asked suddenly.

With a shrug, Miranda urged her to continue. Her head began to buzz a bit as she watched the other guests spinning around the dance floor. She thought that she should probably slow down a bit, as she took another sip of her drink.

"Okay, like, with the Illusive Man. I got Jacob," her speech was slurred but she seemed focused. "Fellow soldiers, normal conversation. Whatever. Obviously Gabby and Kenneth were cute. He like gave me a little sitcom couple to root for."

Miranda nodded knowingly, though she had no idea where Shepard was going with this.

"And you know, Gardner was a sweetheart. Like a gruff old uncle. That was nice and clearly worked the way the Illusive Man intended. And then Chakwas and Joker were thrown in there for familiarity. Obviously that was a plus. And then he stuck you with me, second in command. Like I would clearly respect you and stuff. All good. But like," she shook her head. "What was up with Kelly? He was just like, 'she probably likes sex. She probably wants to have some of dat. Stick Kelly in there. For the sex. Sexy times for all. That's great. It's good.'"

Miranda nearly choked on her drink, causing the other woman to laugh. "I guess what a mean is; did you guys encourage her to do that? Was that like a plan?"

Trying hard not to laugh, Miranda ignored the question, "I thought you liked Kelly?"

"I did," Shepard defended quickly. "I do. She's a sweet kid. I just…" She trailed off, "she just wanted to have sex a lot…with _everybody. _All the time."

Miranda snickered at the memories, "It's not her fault everybody on board was apparently irresistible."

"I'm not here to judge. I'm just saying," Shepard struggled to regain her focus, "I'm just saying that obviously the Illusive Man was trying to cater to my tastes and somehow crazy-sex-addict-teenager-woman-lady-thing made the list. Like _what _is in my file? Why did you guys think that was a good idea?"

Miranda shrugged mysteriously, a telling smile gracing her lips.

* * *

Tali stood next to the table, glaring down at the two women disapprovingly, hands on her hips. "Are you guys going to get up and dance? Or like, do anything?"

"Tali," Shepard slurred out, "we are sitting here, drinking copious amounts of alcohol, and making snide remarks about the other guests. What more _can_ we do?"

"You two are impossible," the younger girl lamented quietly.

"More like…im..sexy-able…." Shepard shot back, and then looked rather confused, "Wait…"

Tali shook her head, "don't let her have much more, Miranda."

Miranda, who had still seemed rather composed, gave insight into her intoxication levels as she uncharacteristically gave a mock salute.

"Oh dear," Tali sighed, exasperated.

* * *

Shepard burst into the room and stumbled towards the bed with purpose, dragging Miranda along behind her. Though Miranda had wizened up and had slowed down after a time, Shepard never quite had the same sense the other woman did. She was rather drunk, if she did say so herself.

"At least we can have crazy hotel sex," she said decidedly as she fell onto the comforter.

Miranda, who had pulled out of her grasp to shut the door, rolled her eyes at the comment. "Please stop with the sweet talk, you'll make me blush."

Shepard either didn't make sense of the remark or chose to ignore it as she rolled over gracelessly, arms grasping at the air wildly in Miranda's direction. "Come here," she whined loudly, eyes squinting at the intensity of the room's overhead light.

Shaking her head dismissively, Miranda stood over her bag, and began to shed her jewelry. Shepard's protests increased in volume, "pay attention to me."

Sighing, Miranda turned her head to glance back at the woman strewn across their temporary bed, "Get out of your dress, Shepard. You'll feel better when you are in your pajamas." She turned back towards the wall and began to slide out of her own gown. Shepard watched the entire time, a huffy pout heavy on her lips.

"Tease," She called out as Miranda stripped down to her undergarments only to immediately pull on the pajamas she had packed.

"Shepard, I'm just changing. Which you really need to do," Miranda scolded gently as she pulled her toothbrush out of her bag. "I'm going into the bathroom and I expect that dress to be neatly folded in your bag when I get out," she announced before heading towards the other room.

Shepard's face scrunched up in annoyance. "I'm Miranda," she mocked, "and you better do whatever I want because I'm the queen of Australia and I fold all my dresses all the time."

Miranda looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "When you were growing up with the Alliance did they actually ever teach you anything? Or did they just point out what they wanted you to shoot?"

Shepard appeared confused, so Miranda decided to drop the subject and disappeared behind the bathroom door. For her part, Shepard managed to stand, pull off the dress, kick off her heels, and slide under the comforter. The dress lay in a pile on the floor but it didn't bother her much as she was suddenly overcome with a wave of exhaustion.

Miranda returned a few moments later and groaned. "Are you kidding me, Shepard?" she shook her head with a sigh. Miranda had just been fooling herself, she knew it would end with her cleaning up after Shepard all along. It always did.

When she finally sorted out the mess, Miranda gratefully climbed into bed beside the woman. It wasn't the most comfortable bed they had ever shared, but it felt good after a long day like the one they had just survived. Shepard stretched beside her, before turning to wrap a heavy arm around Miranda's waist.

"Hey," she mumbled as she stared at the woman through hazy half lidded eyes.

"What now?" Miranda sighed out with an annoyance she didn't really feel.

"We're better than Ashley and James," Shepard responded simply.

Miranda couldn't hold back that laugh that bubbled out of her. "Whatever you say, Shepard," she said as she turned to the bedside table to turn off the light. "Just get some sleep."

Shepard shook her head even though Miranda could no longer see her in the darkness.

"No but we are," she pressed. "Way better."

"Okay," Miranda agreed, if only to earn some peace and quiet.

The arm around her tightened, as Shepard pulled herself closer, "you need a beeper."

Miranda decided discretion was the better part of valor in this case, and hoped that when she didn't respond Shepard would merely drift off. There was a silence that lasted a good three minutes or so, but of course as soon as she felt her eyes drifting closed Shepard was at it again.

"Fucking Greg."

Groaning, Miranda rolled over in the embrace so that she was facing the woman, "I'm so tired, Shepard. Just tell me who Greg is quickly so I can go to sleep."

"He's Greg," Shepard spat out disdainfully. "I hate Greg."

"That's nice," Miranda hummed sleepily. "Can we talk about whatever this is tomorrow when you are not quite so drunk?"

"No," Shepard whined. "Tomorrow you won't like me."

Despite herself, Miranda couldn't help but laugh, "why's that then?"

"Because," Shepard breathed out tiredly, "you won't. You should stay with me. I like you better than Greg."

Miranda smiled and snuggled into Shepard's neck, content despite the heavy scent of alcohol that hung in the air about them. "Well that's a relief," she responded. "Word on the street is you're not too fond of him."

"No," Shepard moaned, "I like you better than Greg likes you."

"Ah," Miranda replied, "well glad that's all cleared up then. What did I ever do to him?"

"So stay with me," Shepard reiterated, sounding rather determined as she ignored her companion's question.

"I'm right here, Shepard," Miranda soothed.

Shepard shifted a bit until their foreheads met clumsily, colliding almost _too _forcefully in the dark. "You should marry me so that we can have something not to invite Greg to."

Miranda lay in stunned silence for a moment. The topic had never really come up before, and of course the one time it did Shepard was absolutely hammered. It had always been this thing hovering over them that they avoided like the plague. Honestly, it was never really on Miranda's mind until events like this cropped up. It had been the same back when they had attended Garrus and Tali's union, Shepard would dance around the subject and then chicken out and pull away as soon as things started getting too serious for her comfort. Apparently, she did not have that same problem after a couple of drinks.

"Oh shut up, you're wasted," Miranda shoved at Shepard's shoulder ineffectively as she spoke.

"Am not," Shepard shot back. Suddenly, she was cackling gleefully, "he would feel so bad about himself."

Miranda rolled her eyes. "Why don't you just marry Greg if you're so obsessed?"

"No," Shepard wailed as she pulled Miranda more tightly to her chest. "I hate Greg."

"So I've been told. May I go to sleep now?"

"Do it," Shepard pressed.

"Do what?" Miranda groaned. "Sleep? I'm trying."

"Marry me," Shepard amended simply in a voice that was so strong and sure that Miranda couldn't help but wonder if the woman was not quite as intoxicated as she was being lead to believe. The thought disappeared as quickly as it had come however as Shepard continued on. "It will make Greg feel like a loser."

"Well," Miranda replied dryly, "what further motivation could I need?"

Shepard snickered, "oh good, that's that settled then."

"I never agreed," Miranda said quickly.

"Hey," Shepard whined. "Why not?"

"Because," Miranda sniffed, not sure why she suddenly felt so self conscious, "I don't think you're going to remember a word of this in the morning."

"Well then," suddenly Shepard's voice was low and steady, with not a trace of petulance to be heard, "I guess you have nothing to lose by agreeing."

Miranda's brow furrowed. Shepard _definitely _wasn't as drunk as she was making herself out to be.

"I hate you."

"Now I don't think that's true," Shepard replied warmly before pressing her lips to Miranda's for a chaste kiss. "You should say yes. Think of the practicality of it, if nothing else."

"Practicality?" Miranda questioned despite the feeling that she most likely did not want to hear the explanation.

"Sure," Shepard responded with a shrug. "Even if all goes well you said all that stuff before. What was it? 'I'll likely live half again as long as the average human' or something like that. You need to cover your bases. Protect your assets."

Miranda shook her head softly. She was tired and confused, which was making her more irritable than usual. Thinking about Shepard's mortality was doing nothing to improve her mood. "Just go to sleep," she said finally.

Ignoring the order, Shepard pressed on with a grin, "You're totally going to marry me."

"No I'm not," Miranda groaned, now more out of spite than any real objection to the idea.

"I think you will."

"I think I won't."

"But you probably will though."

"Nope."

"Nah, you want to."

"I assure you I have no desire in the slightest."

About six and a half months later, they were wed.


End file.
